The Neon Graveyard by Vicki Pettersson

secret about the Tulpa,” I said, referring to the ward mother down the hall . . . the one who’d once been charged with rearing this valley’s Shadow agents. There was a time I’d have killed her without blinking, but outside of Carlos, Io was now my closest—and only female—friend. “She said he doesn’t hate the grays because we stand up to him, or despise humans because he considers them weak. He doesn’t even hate the Light more than the Shadows. He hates us all, down to the last.”
    “Because we’ve all made our way into this world through blood and bone.”
    I nodded. “The Tulpa has no mother, and in a matriarchal society like ours, that’s true power. So he knows he has no real claim as troop leader, not if someone with more power and a true lineage pops up.”
    “He hates us precisely because we live.”
    “That’s right.”
    “But hates you more than everyone else, amiga. ”
    “Not everyone.”
    Carlos shook his head. “Your mother? Zoe Archer has fled the valley. This toolbox alone is proof of that. She is forever out of his reach, while you are not. So forgive me if I don’t find that overly comforting.”
    But I did. My mother was out of harm’s way, and so was that first child I’d borne and given up for adoption a decade earlier. She too had needed to escape the Tulpa’s relentless pursuit.
    And now I had a second child to protect.
    “I’m going to take a catnap,” I said, leaning forward and closing the toolbox. Buttersnap growled at the word cat but I shoved my plate her way and that shut her up. “I need to be fresh for tonight’s rave.”
    Illegal desert raves had become our best way of finding new rogue agents.
    “Rest as long as you need,” said Carlos, standing. “I can take care of the recruiting.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “I thought you said it would help for me to be there. That it’d convince any uncertain rogues that we’re more than talk.” Had he changed his mind because of today’s close call? Or because the talk down the hall had unsettled me?
    “Ah, Joanna.” He reached out to help lift me to my feet. “Always so hard on yourself. Let me figure out how to deal with these new developments. You don’t have to take everything on your shoulders.”
    “But—”
    “No.” He squeezed my hands before letting them go. “There’s always been a good chance the Shadows would take precautions against you gaining the aureole. I’ve been considering backup plans for some time now, and after I think on it a bit more, I’m sure one of them will do.”
    “Like what?” If the Shadows weren’t carrying conduits, how on earth would I find a way to turn their own weapons against them?
    “If I tell you now,” he said, winking as he opened the door, “you’ll just think it’s your concern. Now get some sleep, stay healthy. The rest will take care of itself.”
    I didn’t see how, but then, that was how life worked in any world. You did your level best, stayed alert on the journey, and trusted your next step to reveal itself when needed. Hopefully it wouldn’t lead directly off a cliff. I joined him at the door. “You’re killing me, Carlos.”
    “No. I’m keeping you alive,” he said, giving me that gentle smile over his shoulder again. “Go see Io if you can’t sleep.” She had odd herbs to induce peaceful sleep, though her strong massaging fingers were just as potent. Yet as choleric and out of sorts as I was feeling, I didn’t feel like being soothed and I certainly didn’t want something to knock me out.
    “And wedita ?” he said, pausing only steps into the bumpy hall. There was a twist on his tone that made me tilt my head as Carlos hesitated before shaking his head, as if changing his mind. “Sleep well.”
    And he disappeared around the craggy corner, his shadow stretching so long in the candlelight that it appeared to be guarding the hall. Then it, and his footsteps, faded and I shut the door.
    “Carlos is wrong about one thing,” I